


five times andrea herrera and robert sullivan absolutely did not go on a date and the one time that they did

by CyrusBreeze



Category: Station 19 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Relationship Negotiation, light light angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 09:12:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17423054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrusBreeze/pseuds/CyrusBreeze
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin.Written for Day 2 of Station 19 Week: Zoning (Boundaries)





	five times andrea herrera and robert sullivan absolutely did not go on a date and the one time that they did

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t even know how I feel about Sullivandy. I really liked Andy with Ryan tbh, but also like Andy and Sullivan have an interesting dynamic. So idk.

**i.**

Coffee isn’t a date. At least, Robert Sullivan is pretty sure that coffee doesn’t count as a date. 

Coffee is absolutely suitable for a professional meeting, getting coffee with Herrera is absolutely not a date, not one at all. 

It doesn’t make Robert any less nervous. He doesn’t date, (and he’s not a date right now) but he can’t help but feel a little bit of anxiety over the fact that he's going out to coffee with Herrera (which isn’t a date.) 

But Robert is fine. He’s perfectly capable of acting like an adult human because this is a business meeting and not a date. 

So he orders his coffee and then Herrera offers to grab a seat and he panics a little, his professional facade slipping a bit. 

This isn’t a date. It’s a business meeting. 

So he asks his question and then he leaves. 

He knows it’s awkward. He knows his leaving was abrupt, but he can’t help it. It’s just part of his personality at this point. He’s a damned good firefighter, but his personal skills are severely lacking. 

It’s a good thing that it was _not_ a date, because if it was, it would’ve been supremely awkward. So it’s good. That it’s not a date. 

**ii.**

Carpooling to physical therapy and then getting lunch afterward is not a date, no matter how much Maya teases Andy about it. 

“It’s for the sake of convenience,” Andy says defensively. 

And Maya just smirks. “The convenience of getting into each other’s pants.” Maya dances a little and Andy rolls her eyes. 

“I did the workplace thing,” she said. “It didn’t work out for a reason. Don’t shit where you eat.” 

“So…” Maya presses. “What’d you talk about at lunch?”

“Work,” Andy answers. “And physical therapy. And soccer.” 

“Soccer?” Maya says. 

Andy nods. “Sullivan played in college actually. He says he’s pretty good.” 

“But you’re better,” Maya teases. 

“Maybe not,” Andy says with a shrug. 

“You could play him for your next date.” Maya waggles her eyebrows suggestively and Andy gives her a friendly shove. 

“It wasn’t a date,” Andy retorts. 

**iii.**

Rock climbing (as suggested by both of their physical therapists) also is not a date. 

It’s almost coincidence that they decided to rock climb on the same day. It’s also basically coincidence that they decided to carpool. (As it turns out, they prefer the same rock climbing place, and it’s a ways out of town, and Robert cares for the environment. Why emit greenhouse gasses when it’s more efficient to carpool?) 

Ice cream after isn’t a date either. It’s a celebration of the fact that they’re both that much closer to being cleared for return to full active duty. 

Ice cream is nice however. 

“You’re not half bad at rock climbing,” Herrera says as she sits down in one of the booths of the old fashioned ice cream shop. 

Robert arches an eyebrow. “I’m going to pretend not to take offense at that,” he says. 

“I’m just saying that you’re pretty good for a novice,” Herrera says with a laugh. 

“Have you been rock climbing for awhile?” Robert asks. 

Herrera nods. “I’ve been rock climbing since I could walk. It’s one of my dad’s favorite things to do, so we went a lot.” 

“I used to hike a lot,” Robert says, surprising even himself. He knows where this is going. “I just kinda stopped after Claire…” he trails off. 

Herrera’s face softens a bit, and not with the pitying look that Robert usually sees whenever he talks about Claire. It’s one of almost… understanding. 

“My mom really liked watching baseball. We used to watch it every Sunday during the season,” Herrera says. “I can’t even make it through a game now.” 

Herrera gets it. 

They’ve both experienced loss in extremely different ways, but grief’s foundation is the same. The feeling of loss feels similar no matter how long it’s been or who you’ve lost. 

The silence that falls is thick but somehow comfortable. 

Eating with Herrera is nice, but it’s not a date 

**iv.**

A soccer game is not a date, especially when it’s to celebrate being officially cleared to return to active duty. 

It’s not a date because Andy invited at least two other people, those two people just decided not to come. And Robert invited Ripley; Ripley just also decided not to come. 

Soccer games are not dates. 

It doesn’t matter that they decide to share a plate of nachos and then a funnel cake. Stadium food is incredibly expensive, and it was a financially responsive decision to share their food. 

And they talk and laugh and joke because they’re friends. They’re not dating. It’s what friends do. They talk to each other and they have fun at soccer games. And it’s nice. They’re just friends. It isn’t a date. 

At least, that’s what Robert tells himself. Because he’s not, not dating Andrea Herrera. He’s not ready for that, yet. 

The funnel cake was good, Seattle won, and Robert and Herrera take the bus back to their neighborhood. (As it turns out, Robert’s apartment is only three blocks from Herrera and Bishop’s house). It’s a few blocks from the bus top, so Robert decides to walk Herrera home. 

(It still doesn’t mean it’s a date. He would’ve walked anyone home. It’s common courtesy really. And it’s on his walk home anyway.) 

“I had fun tonight,” Herrera says as they walk down the street. 

“Me too,” Robert agrees. And he did have fun, more fun than he had had in years. Herrera just made things easy, and it felt good to let loose every once in a while. 

“You should be softer around the team,” Herrera suggests. “I like this side of you.” 

“I don’t know,” Robert says slowly. It’s been a long time since he relaxed around his coworkers. He tried to keep things strictly progressional, which is why the fact that he’s falling for Herrera is so damned terrifying. 

“You can be strict with us and still let loose sometimes,” Herrera continues. “Just remember that.” 

They’re at Herrera and Bishop’s front porch now, and Robert feels a pang of sadness at the thought of their evening (not a date) ending so soon. 

“Bishop’s visiting her parents,” Herrera says, as if she’s reading his mind. “She’s not home, so would you like to come in for something to drink?”

Robert finds himself smiling in spite of himself. “I’d like that.” 

**v.**

Team dinner is not a date. It’s not a date even if the person you invited that came is someone you’ve slept with. Team dinner is team dinner. It doesn’t matter if it’s the first time that Sullivan has eaten with the team. It doesn’t matter that Andy only had to ask once. 

It isn’t a date. 

It isn’t a date because they sit on opposite sides of the table and they barely make eye contact. 

It isn’t a date because Sullivan doesn’t actually say a word. He just observes the team as they eat and life. 

Andy does make eye contact with Sullivan, but it’s fleeting. His eyes are soft, and Andy thinks that maybe people-watching is his way of showing affection. He’s good at reading people. He knows exactly where the team needs to go and where they’re best suited. 

It’s not a date. They’re not dating. Andy and Sullivan haven’t actually talked about what they are. Lately, Andy’s been spending nights at Sullivan’s house. They mostly talk, sometimes they have sex, but they’ve never defined what this is, what they’re supposed to be. 

Sullivan is here because Andy asked, but this still isn’t a date. 

**+1**

“This is a date, right?” Sullivan asks. He’s fidgeting in his outfit, his eyes darting from side to side. 

“This is _definitely_ a date,” Andy replies with a smile. 

Sullivan looks relieved, as if he was wondering if she was going to say no, but they’re sitting in the middle of a fancy restaurant. Andy is wearing a dress. This is most definitely a date. 

“So, we’re dating?” Sullivan asks tepidly, and Andy can see the fear in his eyes. Andy knows that he hasn’t done much, or any, dating since his wife died, so she gets it. She understands why he’s nervous. 

“We’re dating,” Andy confirms. 

She doesn’t know how or why this happened. Something about mutual trauma and the effect that it has on the brain. But, they’re dating. 

Andrea Herrera is dating Robert Sullivan. And it feels nice to say that.

**Author's Note:**

> Loved it? Hated it? Please leave a comment.


End file.
